


Watch a Dream Breaking

by philaetos



Series: Studies [8]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Basically this is all just Baz reflecting on memories, Baz takes care of children!!!!!!, Dumping my fears on Baz again, It’s better than to talk about it, M/M, You should try, and Simon is horny in background because what else, and a good uncle, can you tell i have no idea how to tag this?, he’s a good sibling, very ‘serious’ stuff going on
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 08:00:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29913831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/philaetos/pseuds/philaetos
Summary: “ If I turn Simon, we lose all chances to have biological children. We lose all chances to have children at all.”————————————Baz learns to accept the fact that he won’t ever have children as he sees his loved ones have them
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: Studies [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2010952
Comments: 15
Kudos: 52





	Watch a Dream Breaking

**Author's Note:**

> thanks again 6643904379cS for beta-ing this ^^

**Baz**

_I didn’t think it would be this hard._

_I knew it wouldn’t be easy, I knew there would be moments when it would keep me awake at night, the way every thing that ever troubles me does._

_But I didn’t think that seeing the people I love at the height of joy would make me feel like my heart has been ripped out of my chest._

_It’s a strange feeling, really, being happy for them while my heart is breaking with envy._

_It all started with Bunce._

**…**

_24 years old_

“Baz, I’m pretty sure I know where this is going and I’m not letting you do that. You are _not_ killing A.”

I wiggle my eyebrows, bending my neck back to give him a smirk

He’s so beautiful like this. Passionate. He’s sitting on the couch right over me, his legs on either side of me, clad in nothing but a brand new pair of tracksuit bottoms staring at the screen of my laptop furiously, waving a raging hand at it.

“This is my story and I will do what I want.”

He shakes his head vigorously, before very dramatically holding out his left hand, pointing at his wedding band with his other hand. “What’s yours is mine and what’s mine is yours and all that bullshit, Basilton. This is _our_ story and you are _not_ killing A. I _will_ file for divorce if you kill A. He is basically me, that would be like killing me, Baz.”

I can’t help it, I burst out laughing. This is _so_ like him to jokingly threaten to divorce me over a book character. 

He kicks me in the side, effectively stopping my fit of laughter by making me choke on my breath. 

I clear my throat. “I already told you a million times that A wasn’t you, my love, so I can kill him if I want,” I answer, resting my head on his knee more comfortably. 

He pouts. “Why would you do that. He’s…”

He’s brutally interrupted by the ringtone of his phone.

He fumbles for it in his pocket, and I see a small smile grow on his face. Nothing serious, then. Thank Merlin.

Calls this late into the night are usually not a good thing.

“It’s Penny,” he says, before picking up. “Hey!”

He put Bunce on speakers, so I hear her voice as if she was talking to me when she speaks, “Hello, Simon.”

There’s a strange tone to her voice, something I’ve never heard from her. A mixture of excitement and dread. 

“Is Baz with you?”

“Where do you want him to be,” Simon answers with a scoff, his hand absentmindedly finding its way into my hair. 

“Okay, great.” Penelope takes a shaky breath, which makes Simon tense and causes one of my eyebrows to go up. That woman is always so unbothered. “I was calling to know if the two of you could possibly fly here soon.”

Simon and I exchange a puzzled glance. Bunce has rarely invited us to the US. When we see each other, it’s because she’s back on British soil to see her family. Since I got back together with Simon, three years ago, we’ve only visited Bunce four times. 

“That could be arranged,” I answer. “But may I ask why you want us to come? This is a rather unusual request coming from you.”

There’s a silence. 

We’re probably not on speakers, but my hearing is good enough to catch Shepard’s voice whispering “It’s okay.” to Penny, shortly before she answers, nervousness making her voice slightly shaky. “I want you to come so that you can meet my daughter.”

My jaw drops. Simon’s eyes go comically wide, and if I hadn’t had the reflex to grab it, his phone would have hit the floor. 

I look at his face, to watch his reaction. He looks like he’s about to cry, start yelling, and faint at the same time. I can’t say I’m not shocked myself. 

She never struck me as the type to have children, not before she was older, at least, but I don’t know Bunce that well. 

“Penelope Bunce you had a _baby_ without telling me about it?” Simon says, looking absolutely scandalized. 

“If it can make you feel better, I didn’t tell anyone at all. Not even my parents. Actually, Baz and you are the first to know.”

Hiding a pregnancy from all of her loved ones. That’s such a Penelope Bunce thing to do. 

“The first to know? But Pen, why didn’t you talk about it before?”

He’s still tense, but I can tell he’s trying to make his voice sound calm not to upset Penny. Good boy.

I shift between his legs until my back is resting against one of them, my hand looking for his and squeezing it when it finds it. 

“My doctor said that the pregnancy was risky. I… There’s a reason mages don’t have children with Normals, Simon. I didn’t want to tell everyone if I ended up losing the baby,” she answers, her voice rendered a little hoarse, probably by the pain of thinking about losing her child. 

Her reason actually makes a lot of sense. 

Simon must understand it… how dangerous magic and pregnancies can be together… That's how his mother died. Because the magic was too much. Surely if magic being too intense could kill a grown woman, it could kill a fetus inside the womb. 

Not that we’re ever told that, as mages. Everyone just assumes no Mage would ever try to have children with a Normal, and therefore, no one even considers the risks that it might represent. 

“Oh,” Simon says, sadness making his lips turn down. “Okay. But you’re fine now? And the baby too, right?”

“Yes, Si, we’re both fine. She’s… full of life, actually,” Bunce says. All the love and tenderness she has for her child can be heard in her voice, as clear as day. “And she’s very excited to meet Uncle Simon and Uncle Baz.”

_Uncle Baz._

Warmth pool in my chest, around my heart, making me melt from the inside. 

It shouldn’t surprise me. Bunce is closer with Snow than she is with her actual siblings, of course he would be Uncle Simon. And I’m married to him, so… Uncle Baz.

Simon is tearing up when he looks down at me, which isn’t surprising either. He gets to be an _uncle._ Part of someone’s family. It’s all he’s ever wanted, and it’s the confirmation that even if she’s an ocean away and they don’t talk nearly as regularly as they used to -adult life and time differences don’t make things easy- his best friend still loves him incredibly much. I know he doubts it sometimes. 

It’s hard to fully understand and accept that people love you and that they’re not going to suddenly stop.

He opens his mouth, but I don’t need him to tell me, I’m already opening a new tab to order plane tickets.

**…**

Shepard and Penelope’s daughter is absolutely adorable. 

She’s ridiculously small, like all babies are, with dark brown eyes so big they look almost _too_ big for her tiny face. They shine cheerfully as she babbles in Simon’s arms. Her hand keeps going up to touch his face, pulling his lip and scratching him with her minuscule baby nails, and instead of irritating him, it just makes him laugh, and laugh, and laugh. 

“Your mum wasn’t kidding when she said you were a lively little things,” he giggles, moving Erika’s arm away from his face with a gentleness that is very unlike him. 

My husband is a brute.

Never with children, though. He’s always so careful with my siblings. With his niece too, apparently.

I’m sure he would have been too, with his son or daughter…

I let myself imagine this for a moment. It’s a terrible idea and I know it, but as I look at Simon holding Erika, I picture another baby in his strong arms. A baby that would have a skin as tawny as his used to be before it turned vampire pale. A baby that would have moles and those blue eyes that make my heart flutter. A baby that would grow up to call us his or her dads. 

A baby of our own.

A baby we will never have.

**…**

_It continued with Dev and Niall. As the joy of seeing people I care for happy became even greater than when I saw Bunce with her child, the pain of knowing I would never have that became greater too._

**…**

I’ve been by Niall and Dev’s side all throughout the adoption process.

I was there when they started filling papers after papers, making sure that they were doing it correctly, because they were so on edge they might have made mistakes.

I was there when they had meetings with the workers of the adoption center, waiting for them in the car for dozens and dozens of minutes.

I was there when they were rejected once. Twice.

I was there when Niall isolated himself because couldn’t bear to have Dev’s gaze on him. When he felt so down about their attempts to adopt failing that he considered putting himself through a pregnancy he knew would ruin him.

I was there when they cried and fell back into each other’s arms, after days of being forcefully separated by Niall’s guilt.

I was there when they tried a third time, after taking a few months to heal from the last refusal.

I was there when they were told that their file was accepted and that they could adopt a child. 

I was the one who drove them to the care home, on the day they were finally allowed to take their child in, because they were both too jittery to even think of driving. 

I was there when they met their little girl and brought her home. 

I was there all along, feeling my own heart clench in my chest when they faced hardships, crying and celebrating with them when they became parents. 

I was there, and I couldn’t help but long for this. Even the hard parts. I would have taken the heartbreak of rejection, I would have taken the excruciatingly long wait. I would have taken it all if it meant I got to do this with Simon.

But it wasn’t possible.

And I knew it.

**…**

_31 years old_

Niall and Dev are away for a week, alone, to celebrate the fact that they’ve been together for 15 years -time flies- which means that Simon and I are in charge of Lottie. 

Well, I’m in charge of Lottie. Contrary to me, my husband doesn’t work from home, so I’m the one one who can actually look after her all day long, though he obviously helps me when he gets back from work. 

He loves that kid as much as I do, and she loves us just the same. 

I take incredible pride in being her favourite uncle. With Simon and Niall’s brother-in-law, I have some serious competition…

But Charlotte adores me. We’ve been so close, since she was adopted. Niall and Dev were perfectly capable of taking care of a child, when they took her in, but they were rather freaked out by the whole thing, so I spent the first few weeks after the adoption helping them with her. I spent practically more time at their place than at mine, so much that on a lot of evenings, Simon came back here from work, not to our place, because he knew that was where he was most likely to find me.

Lending them a helping hand like this, it was, like most things when it comes to my relationship with the children of my friends, both incredible and heartbreaking. 

I wanted nothing more than to be taking care of a child. 

But it was not my child.

And I would never take care of a child that would be mine.

And that part hurts.

It still does.

After an entire week being with Charlotte every hour of every day, my heart aches at the thought that this is going to end. 

I’m so desperate to care for a child that I wasn’t even a little bit annoyed -I _relished_ it- when the devilish little thing crawled into my bed on the second day because she had a nightmare, and proceeded to keep me awake for most of the night after that. I even had to use a spell on Simon to make sure _he_ would get the sleep he needs.

Speaking of the devil… 

Simon’s hand snakes inside my trousers.

I jump, casting him an irritated glance as I feel him fondle my arse. 

His fingers are dangerously close to my hole, the sensation toeing the line between uncomfortable and pleasurable. 

The one thing it surely is though, is _inappropriate_. 

See, I usually wouldn’t have a problem with my demon of a husband trying to finger me or jerk me off while we’re watching tv. Lazy, clothed sex on the couch is actually quite hot.

But _not_ when my goddaughter is in our house. 

“Snow,” I say as a warning, keeping my eyes on the large, flat screen.

I won’t do him the pleasure of looking his way. I don’t need to do so to know that he has a cheeky smile and that his eyes are sparkling mischievously.

“Yes, angel?”

“Keep your hands to yourself. Charlotte is here.”

He knows it’s not a real rejection, or else his hand would have already flown out of my pants. But after so many years, he knows me. Knows what to make of all of my reactions, knows how my voice sounds when I truly want him to stop. 

And even if he did not. I’d just have to _begin_ to say Anathema and he’d stop touching me. 

_‘You’ve had enough unwanted touches for a lifetime’_ he once groaned furiously as I teased him for how quickly he practically threw himself out of the bed when I used the safeword. 

He kisses my neck, biting playfully. This bite severely lacks fangs…

 _Control yourself, Basil._ This is exactly what Simon wants.

“She’s in her room, it’s fine.”

I shake my head. “It’s not. Dev and Niall should be here soon, can’t you _wait_.”

“No. You’re too sexy,” he answers as the tip of a finger _finally_ brushes my hole.

I stiffen, holding back a gasp. 

“I’m literally just wearing jeans and a t-shirt.”

Baggy jean, on top of that. It’s not like they really hug any parts of me that Simon would be interested in.

“Your point?” he asks, licking the skin he just bit.

“My point, Snow, is that I’m _definitely_ not sexy enough at the moment for you to be _this_ horny. Hands off.”

He whines, but he does stop teasing me and takes his hand out of my pants, not without casting me a plaintive look too.

“I want you,” he says, pouting.

He’s insufferable. 

You’d think after nearly _10 years_ , his libido would have decreased. You’d be wrong.

An animal. He’s an animal.

“You’ll have me,” I answer in a soothing voice, stroking his hair tenderly. He closes his eyes and headbutts my hand, asking for more, like a cat. 

Speaking of cats, I haven’t seen Ollie in a while, that’s suspicious…

“When Charlotte is gone,” I finish. 

He opens his eyes, immediately starting a fire inside me with his lustful gaze. Aleister Crowley.

“Alright… then you know what we’re going to do, Baz?”

He speaks to me with that hot, low voice that he so rarely uses and that sends shivers down my spine. 

So he’s being bossy tonight… 

Good.

It’s been a while since we last did this, and I can’t say I don’t need to let go…

“No,” I answer, already breathless.

The implications of his voice are turning me on more than his finger inside my arsehole. This is absolutely ridiculous.

This is proof that I needed this, even if I wasn’t aware of it. I only ever truly feel the need to submit anymore when things have been hectic in our daily life and I haven’t been able to let myself stop trying to control more things than I actually can. 

I wonder if Simon is in the mood for that tonight simply because he misses having me pliant and obedient underneath him, or if he has sensed my need for it.

Maybe both. Probably both. 

He puts a warm hand on my thigh. Even now that his body has been at the same temperature as mine for so long that I barely remember its past heat, he still feels warmer than me.

“When Niall and Dev arrive, you are going to go to our room while I take care of collecting Lottie’s things and handing her back to her parents. I’ll probably invite them inside for a drink to give you enough time to undress and make yourself look pretty for me. How? That’s up to you to decide, but I want your jeans and your t-shirt gone. You can stay naked or put on something else. Surprise me. Then, I want you to cast a spell on yourself so that you’re nice and clean. Don’t take a shower, just a spell. Once that’s all done, I want you to lie down in the middle of the bed, on your stomach, with your hands tucked under your head. I want you to take a moment to think of all the things I might do to you when I’ll join you. But most importantly, I want you to relax. Breathe deeply, close your eyes, and rest. I don’t want any of your muscles to be tense when I touch you. You’ve been so taken by work lately, and you’ve looked after Charlotte so well. You deserve a break, baby. You also deserve to be taken care of, so that’s what I’m going to do when we’re alone.”

I’m the luckiest man on earth.

**…**

“Baz, Baz, Baz!”

Thank Merlin I asked Snow to take his hands off me. I _knew_ it was impossible to do anything while Charlotte was in the house. She’s sneaky. Even with vampire hearing, I sometimes don’t hear her come in. 

I cross my legs, to hide the erection Simon’s words caused me to have, willing it to go away, while my cruel husband laughs softly. 

“Yes my little fairy?” I answer when Lottie climbs on the couch next to me. She’s still wearing her fairy wings, hence the nickname. Usually, she’s ‘princess’.

She giggles, before her expression completely changes and she pulls on my arm, looking at me with puppy eyes and her bottom lip out. 

“When are my parents coming? You said today but it’s dark and they’re not here yet. I miss them.”

I stroke her thin blonde locks tenderly. “They’re arriving soon. Your daddy texted me twenty minutes ago, they had just landed at the airport.”

She lets out a little whine, cuddling up to me, and incidentally completely imprisoning my arm in her grip. 

I can feel Simon’s endeared gaze on us.

I lean down to kiss the top of Charlotte’s hair. 

“I’m going to miss you too when I go back home. And Simon too. I like when I’m at your house,” she confesses.

My heart squeezes in my chest.

“We’ll miss you too, sweetheart,” I hear Simon say.

**…**

Simon does good on his promise to take care of me, keeping me awake for longer than he has in weeks, maybe even months, making me feel cherished. 

Right now, he’s still treating me exceedingly well, cuddling with me in a bathtub filled with hot water, the bathroom lit up by electric candles to make it all even more romantic.

He kisses my wet shoulder.

“You know what I love about looking after other people’s children instead of having our own? We get to give them back and be alone, after some time. I don’t know how our friends can maintain an interesting sex life with those little monsters living with them constantly,” he say, laughter in his voice.

I can’t help but tense.

I know that he’s only joking, that taking it lightly and making jokes about it has been his way to accept the fact that we wouldn’t have children, but his comment still fills me with sadness.

I’d be _so_ okay with only having quick shags when the kids are asleep for years on end if it meant I _had_ kids.

Simon must feel the change in my mood, because he holds me tighter, pressing an apologetic kiss to my cheek.

“Sorry, babe. I shouldn’t joke about that with you.”

“It’s okay. I’m too sensitive, that’s all.”

I am. I knew I wouldn’t have children when I was _15._ I’m twice that age now. I should have been over it for a long time, now.

**…**

_It was even worse when it was my family, though I’m not sure what was more difficult. Helping Ophelia with her pregnancy…_

**…**

_29 years old_

“Hello? Baz?”

My sister’s voice is unsteady on the other end of the phone.

“Ophelia,” I say, intrigued. “What’s wrong?”

My siblings only ever call or text me to ask me if I can drive them places, buy them alcohol, or when they want to spend the weekend in London and need to crash at my house. She wouldn’t sound so troubled if she came to me with one of those requests. 

“I’m really sorry to bother you, but do you think you could drive to Watford?”

“Drive to Watford?” It’s a Wednesday. If it were on a Friday, I’d understand, but in the middle of the week? And in the middle of the _day_? “Now?”

“Yes,” she says, nervous. “I’ll explain everything, but, uh, basically, I was feeling unwell so I went to the infirmary, and I need to be away from school for a little while, but I don’t want mum and dad to know about it, and the nurse said she would only agree not to call them if you came for me, because you know, you’re an adult, and you’re family. Please Baz, I’d do anything, just… please come.”

Her breathing is getting laboured, and too fast-paced. 

“Don’t be silly. Of course I’ll come, Lili,” I say, using her childhood nickname, hoping to provide her with some comfort. 

She lets out a relieved sigh. “Thank you so much.”

**…**

“Where are you going?” Simon asks, bent over the dishwasher, busy putting our dirty plates from lunch in it.

“Ophelia called me, she needs me to pick her up at Watford,” I answer before giving him a quick peck on the cheek. “Don’t kill yourself at work, see you tonight, love you.”

I’m already on my way out of the kitchen -I’d only come here to say goodbye- when he asks. “Wait, but why? It’s Wednesday.”

I reach the entrance hall, grabbing my coat and hurriedly putting it on before reaching for the keys to my car. 

“I don’t know!” I shout as an answer.

If Simon says anything after that, I don’t hear it over the slam of the door. 

**…**

I’m tapping my fingers on the wheel for most of the drive, wondering why in Merlin’s name my sister would need _me_ and not her parents to come for her. Wondering why she needs me to come for her in the first place. The school nurse can fix pretty much anything, an advantage of having magic. 

I cross the school grounds just as anxiously, ignoring the curious glances I get from students. Even now that I’m rather distant from the Word of Mages, I’m still known. People weren’t going to forget about the Pitch heir just because he lives like a Normal.

But, my name is an incredible advantage in our world, and I know it, so I cannot complain about the notoriety it causes me.

I’m no fool, I know that if the nurse told Ophelia she wouldn’t contact our parents if I came, it’s only because of who I am. They don’t let older siblings be responsible for their siblings who are students. Once, Niall had his big sister sign papers for him instead of their mother, and the teachers refused to accept that as valid, even though Alana was an adult. Taking a student away from the school in the middle of the week, and therefore making them miss class, is an even bigger deal, I would never be able to do that if I weren’t Baz Pitch.

The nurse smiles at me when she sees me.

“Hello, Mr Pitch.”

I’m coming for a student whose name is Ophelia _Grimm_ , and I still get called Pitch. If this isn’t proof that it’s all because of the last name…

“Grimm-Pitch,” I correct automatically. The more time passes, the more annoyed I become with everyone in the World of Mages purposely leaving out the first part of my last name. It took me so long to feel as if I truly belonged with my family, as a Grimm, I don’t want that name forgotten anymore. “Hello, nurse. Where is my sister?”

I make sure to use my most neural voice. Cold indifference always worked better than anger or haughtiness, as I’ve noticed times and times again when my father and my aunt were both called here when _I_ was in trouble.

“I’m here!” Ophelia exclaims, appearing in the doorway. “Can I go now that my brother is here?” she asks, looking at the nurse with obvious annoyance in her voice.

Even with my best spell, it still took some time to get from London to school. If Ophelia was locked inside the infirmary this whole time, I can understand that she wishes to be out of there as soon as possible. 

“Yes, you can,” the nurse answers, tight-lipped.

Ophelia walks up to me, bypassing the nurse, who casts her a disapproving look.

Keep your disapproval to yourself, old hag.

“Great,” my sister says with the biggest, most fake smile I’ve ever seen. She’s been taught so well. “Goodbye.”

I nod silently at the nurse as a goodbye, before heading out of the building with Ophelia.

We aren’t talking, she’s always been a quiet person, but I take time to look at her as we walk to my car. I notice that her nails are bitten, and her eyes bloodshot. 

“Lili, what happened?”

She looks around nervously, seeing that some students are within earshot, and shakes her head discreetly.

“In the car. I’ll tell you in the car.”

Crowley, what could possibly have happened for her to be in that state?

I hope she didn’t get herself in trouble.

It would be quite surprising.

Mordelia is often in Mrs Bunce’s office for sneaking out of the school at night to go to town -she loves a good party, and the pubs are great places to be in in the evening- and Cordelia practically _lives_ in the Weeping Tower. She’s made of trouble, always picking fights, sassing her teachers, and purposely doing things that are against the rules of the school. My father is absolutely tired of this, so much so that Daphne always comes to Watford alone now, when they’re called here because of Delia. 

Needless to say, my aunt adores her.

I give Ophelia some time to herself once we’re in the car before I ask again, “Can you tell me what happened? Your call worried me, and your attitude isn’t making it any better.”

She gives me a smile that looks more like a grimace.

“Sorry. And thank you again for coming. Really, I… I’m very grateful.”

I shrug. “You’re my little sister. It’s normal.”

“Yeah. If you say so. Anyway.” She laughs nervously. “It’s… kind of a big deal actually, but uh, you can’t tell mum and dad.”

“Yes, I had gathered that you wanted to keep them out of your business.” 

Which is strange. She’s close to her parents, more than most young girls her age probably are. 

“It would be too…” She shakes her head. “They simply can’t know.”

“Can’t know what, Ophelia?” I ask yet again, because we’re still not going anywhere with this, and it makes me even more anxious.

I shiver thinking about something that happened to _me_ when I was at Watford. 

It would explain why she was in the infirmary, and why she would need some time away from school…

My hands clench around the wheel.

If _anyone_ touched my baby sister… They’ll know that Pitches being fire mages isn’t just for show. 

I glance at her. She’s looking down at her hands, her long hair partly hiding her flushing face from me.

“They can’t know that I’m pregnant.”

I look away from the road to stare at her for a second, my eyes wide in shock.

She’s 15… She’s a _child._

“You’re what?”

“Pregnant,” she says again, her voice wet with unshed tears.

I swear under my breath. 

Pregnant.

Yesterday, she was feverishly buying books with me to take to Watford when she’d move in there for her first year, and now she’s… pregnant.

“What are you going to do?” 

It’s a stupid question. If she doesn’t want our parents to know, there aren’t many things she _can_ do.

She tucks her hair back behind her ear, exposing the tear that is rolling down her cheek.

It’s hard to drive. I want to stop and hug her. It makes me feel so helpless to see her like this. 

“I don’t know,” she answers.

She’s biting her lips, tearing the skin there with her teeth. I have half a mind to summon something for her to chew on instead of her own lip, but I’m, once again, fucking _driving._

I should have waited until we were at my place to ask.

“You don’t know?”

“I don’t know!” she shouts, her voice breaking. “I _don’t know_ , Baz! I… I’m 15, I’m too young to have a baby, but I… when she was making sure that I was pregnant, the nurse gave me an ultrasound, and… I heard its little heartbeat and I… I don’t… I don’t know.”

She buries her face in her hands, crying quietly.

It breaks my heart.

“Lili, do you want me to park somewhere?” I ask, trying to sound calm. 

“No. I want to get to your place as soon as possible,” she answers, her voice weak and muffled by her palms.

I drive faster.

I couldn’t care less about getting a fine when my little sister is in tears and there’s nothing I can do to help her or make her feel better.

**…**

When we get home, I lend her a pair of pyjama trousers and the comfiest shirt I can find -one that belongs to Simon, it’s so large on her slim figure it’s almost funny- and tell her to settle on the couch while I disappear in the kitchen. I prepare a glass of warm milk with honey in it, Daphne’s go to drink when one of the kids is sick or has a nightmare and she takes them to the kitchen, and grab a pint of ice cream -it’s the last one, Simon’s going to complain about having to run to the shop- before returning to the living room and handing her what I’m carrying

“Nothing better for heartaches than mum’s honeyed milk and ice cream,” I tell her with a small smile.

She smiles back. Her smile is barely there, but it _is_ there.

“Thanks.”

I take a seat next to her, but not so close that she’ll feel stifled by my presence.

I look at her expectantly, and she waves at me. “Just ask your questions,” she says as she opens the ice cream.

“Have you told anyone?”

She shakes her head.

“Just you.”

Not even Cordelia?

I know the twins have grown apart, they’re not as close as when they were little girls, but still… they’re closer to each other than they are to anyone else.

Merlin, she must really not want anyone to know.

“Not even the father?”

She cringes around a spoonful of ice cream.

“No.”

The father must be a sensitive topic then… Wonderful.

“ Are you in a relationship with him, or…?” 

I leave my sentence unfinished, but I suppose it’s easy enough to guess what I mean.

I’m not exactly thrilled to talk about my baby sister’s sex life, but this is an important conversation to have and I’m the adult she turned to. So I _have_ to be an adult for her.

She flushes.

“He’s… He’s no one. I thought we were together, but it turns out that he’s been dating some girl in his year the whole time, and only saw me as a casual shag. I was just some silly girl he cheated on his girlfriend with. I was _nothing_ to him,” she answers, bitterness in her voice.

I hate men. 

Yes, I’m well aware that I’m a man and that I’m very much attracted to men.

“A girl in his year? What year is he in?”

“Eight.”

Eight year. Crowley. So he must be 18. Maybe even 19.

She’s _15._

“And… did you use any protection?”

I remember Daphne sneaking condoms inside the drawer of my bedside table, when she suspected I was sexually active. There’s no way she wouldn’t have given Ophelia condoms if she knew…

But Lili is 15, and by far the most well-behaved of my siblings. She’s not someone you would expect to be having sex, especially not when you’re her parent and still see her as your little girl, I suppose.

She nods. “Yeah. Condoms. It wasn’t enough, apparently.”

This is so horrible.

She was careful, and she still got pregnant. That poor child…

There was a time when I wished nothing more than to be able to carry children, I still do sometimes. Clearly, it’s as much of a curse as it is a blessing. 

Pregnancy scares were never a concern of mine… I’m no biologist, but I do know that the chances of being pregnant after getting fucked in the arse are _quite low_...

“I’m sorry,” I say, because I don’t know what else to say, as I reach out to pat her shoulders. “Just… Know that you can stay here as long as you need to take your decision. I’ll make some calls to cover for you. Mum and dad won’t even know you’re out of school, and even if someone snitches, I’ll make sure they don’t know why you’re not at Watford.”

She smiles, something genuine this time, relief and gratitude written all over her face. 

She shifts closer, cuddling up to me. “You’re the best big brother.

**…**

Ophelia wraps her arms around me, collapsing against my body. She’s trembling all over. 

I set my laptop aside and hold her tight. 

She seemed okay. She had gone to the bathroom to take a shower and have some time alone to think.

As it appears, the thinking didn’t go well.

“It’s okay,” I say, stroking her hair. “It’s okay princess, you’re alright. Shh.”

“I don’t know what to do Baz,” she croaks. “I… It has a _heartbeat._ And… and there are people who lose their baby, and… and there are people who _can’t_ have babies, people like _you_. There are so many people who suffer because they aren’t pregnant, and I… I feel so selfish even thinking of… getting rid of it.”

Her voice is shaking as much as herself. She sounds so pained. Much more than any kid her age should ever be.

“Oh, Ophelia… Honey, it’s not because there are people who wish they were in your situation that you’re selfish for thinking of having an abortion. It’s not your fault what other people go through, and you having a child you aren’t ready for isn’t going to affect their situation, neither for worse or for better.”

It used to make me so bitter, to hear about women getting abortions when all I wished for was to have a baby, because if my darling husband is right about one thing, it’s that I’m a self-centered prick. 

Now I’ve grown and I only laugh at the irony of _my_ situation. I long for a child, having one is quite literally my biggest dream to this day, and meanwhile, it’s so easy for straight -and _mortal_ \- people to have kids that they can end a pregnancy without worrying about never having a baby; they could simply try to get pregnant later, when they’d be ready for it. 

How lucky they are. How unlucky _I_ am.

But it’s _my_ life. _My_ problem. _My_ suffering. I can’t take it out on others. Can’t be angry with people for having a choice I don’t have. 

“You’re so young,” I continue. “You probably think you’re not, I thought I was very grown and mature too when I was 15, but you’re still a child yourself, Ophelia. It’s okay not to want to have one. You’re not a bad person for it.” I kiss the top of her head. “Do what’s better for _you_ , Lili.”

**…**

_…or see my parents gush over their first grandchild, when Mordelia gave birth._

**…**

_35 years old_

This is so strange.

Mordelia had a baby.

My little sister, my Mordy with her long black braids and her nasty habit to barge in my room unannounced, she’s a mum now. She’s a young woman, with a husband and a _child._

My father shed a considerable amount of tears for a man like him since he entered the room, and Daphne won’t stop crying. She hasn’t since she laid eyes on the baby.

A little boy, with a name that Simon obviously described as ‘a pretentious rich people name, but at least it’s not as bad as Tyrannus’.

If you had asked me yesterday, I would have told you that newborns are ugly. _Objectively_ I know that they are. Babies look like nothing for the first few weeks of their life, but right now, as I hold my nephew in my arms, sitting next to Mordelia on her hospital bed, I find myself thinking that the tiny little thing looks beautiful. 

I elbow my sister in the side very carefully. When she looks at me, she radiates happiness. She’s never been more beautiful than now, even with the deep dark circles under her eyes and the fatigue that she bears on her face. 

“Good job making that cute little boy,” I whisper to her. “ _I guess_ that your husband is good for one thing, after all,” I tease her.

I don’t _dislike_ her husband. Thomas is a good bloke, and as far as I know, he makes my sister happy. But I’m her big brother, so I _have_ to have something to say about the man she shares her life with. 

Besides, she never holds back any comment she wants to make about _my_ husband, though, admittedly, the only comments she has to make are jokes about the fact that she thinks he’s hot and that if he realizes that he’s chosen the wrong sibling, she’s here. 

“Oh, he’s very good at this thing, don’t worry,” she says with a smirk.

“Mordelia!” I groan, pretending to be scandalized. “You can’t say things like this in front of your son.”

Her face brightens up even more at the words _‘your son’._

“He’s too little to understand, he’s fine. The only person I can traumatize is _you_.”

Suddenly I’m wishing for my family to come back soon.

Despite how obviously overwhelmed she was, Daphne took matters into her own hands, as usual, and decreed that we should take turns visiting Mordy and the baby so that we’re not all in the room at the same time. 

My parents _did_ have a lot of children. 

So for the moment, it’s only Simon and I in here, my parents and siblings doing Merlin-knows-what, Merlin-knows-where, while Thomas went outside of the hospital to smoke.

“Please don’t,” Simon says, joking along with her. “I don’t want to hear him have an existential crisis because his little sister has sex on our drive back home.”

“Shut up,” I answer immediately. “My siblings are practically your siblings. You should be grossed out too. Besides it’s straight people sex. You should be grossed out no matter what.”

That gets me a roll of eyes from Mordelia and a raised eyebrow from Simon.

“Do I have to remind you that I once had straight sex?”

I cringe exaggeratedly. 

“Please don’t. There are some things I wish to forget. I still cannot believe you partook in such perverted activities.”

“Oh my God, you’re such a dramatic prick.”

I pretend to be particularly offended, making Mordelia smile.

“And you’re mean. I’m not listening to you anymore. I’m only focusing on the baby because at least he isn’t annoying. Right little one?” I say, looking down at my nephew.

He’s half asleep in my arms. I don’t blame him. 

Sleep as much as you want while you still can, kid.

I free one of my hands to softly stroke his round, pink cheek with the knuckle of one finger.

He’s so small. It has been a _very_ long time since I last held a newborn. I know it’s not a realistic fear, but I’m afraid he might break. He looks so fragile.

Without even realizing it, I start talking to him, speaking nonsense about his mum and how great she is, and how much I’m looking forward to see him grow up. I tell him that I love him and that he can always count on Uncle Baz. I rant like a madman to a baby who doesn’t understand a word I say, but I’m happy as I do it. 

There’s something so peaceful about holding him, talking to him quietly. Listening to his breathing and matching it. Hearing his adorable little coos. Having my nostrils full of his baby smell. 

It’s all so incredible.

I feel an insistent gaze for me, making me look up.

When I meet Simon’s eyes, they’re so full of love it might make my heart burst… or crush it.

I know how it feels, to look at the love of your life with a tiny infant in their arms.

I also know how it feels to do it knowing fully well that the infant will never be your child. 

The look we exchange is full of _this_ feeling. The melancholy for something that never existed. The longing for something that will never happen. 

The pain for a loss that isn’t even real.

**…**

_I didn’t think it would be this hard._

_But I didn’t think I’d heal as well as I did either._

_It still hurts, of course. I think it always will. But now, the lack of a child in my life isn’t a black hole devouring me from the inside anymore. It’s a lingering pain in my chest, not particularly bothersome, something I can get used to._

_Something I can_ live with.

_Because even if I can’t have a daughter or a son, I have nieces and nephews. I get to experience some precious moments in the lives of my friends’ and siblings’ children._

_I was here when Ophelia’s son said his first word._

_I encouraged Elias’s second daughter when she decided she wanted to play football._ _I played with her, gifted her her first kit, went to as many of her matches as I could._

_I taught Charlotte how to drive because Niall avoids driving as much as he can and Dev doesn’t have nearly enough patience._

_I was the first person Mordelia’s firstborn came out to._

_I didn’t have children._

_I never will have children._

_But I had them, and it filled the void._

_I had them, and it was_ enough.


End file.
